In the Real World
by Naisa
Summary: "It didn't matter so much to Morgana, the economic difference. Yes, it annoyed her...but it wasn't as bad as the fact they couldn't be together simply because of their skin colour..." In a world of discrimination, one couple is desperate to defy reality to be together, even if, in the real world, they could never be. Future fic, Merlin/Morgana. One shot.


_I'm not sure what made me come up with this idea, I guess I was thinking about the whole Merlin and Morgana, destined never to be together yet they love each other sort of thing (if you ship Mergana), and this sort of came from it :)_

_I've never written a modern fic before, even though this isn't really modern. In my head I've set it in around 1950s America, but I've not given a specific place or time in the story as I wanted to give the impression this could be in any time or place, wherever there is unjust discrimination, there could be a Merlin and Morgana desperate to defy the odds..._

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In the Real World

They never could be together. Not in the real world, it wasn't possible. She lived on the rich side of the City in a huge mansion with servants cooking her food. He lived in what she would describe in comparison as the slums, he counted himself lucky that he had a roof over his head. Not to mention the fact that he was black, and she was white.

It didn't matter so much to Morgana, the economic difference. Yes, it annoyed her, money being yet another reason why they couldn't be, but it wasn't as bad as the fact they couldn't be together simply because of their skin colour. They couldn't go to the same school, they couldn't eat in the same restaurant, they couldn't even drink from the same water fountain. The thoughts made the blood beneath Morgana's marble-white skin boil, and her emerald eyes burned in anger. Merlin never seemed so angry about it, he had to cope with it all his life, he had got used to being taunted and discriminated because of his skin. Unlike Morgana's, his eyes didn't fill with rage, but with sadness.

Morgana would look up into those eyes and think: "Why do people hate you for such a simple thing? I think you're beautiful."

It didn't matter what was on the outside anyway, what mattered was on the inside, and Merlin had the kindest heart Morgana knew. The colour of skin meant nothing to Morgana.

Still, that changed nothing. Society wouldn't change because one girl said and did what everyone else thought was wrong. It would take much more than that. And society would never accept a rich white woman and a poor black man being a couple, so they could never be together, not in the real world.

But when the sun set, and night fell, they entered their own world, where such things were possible.

Every night, Morgana would wait by her windowsill, waiting for a dark figure to appear beneath the street lamp just outside her home. Sometimes she would have to wait hours, sometimes he never came, depending on how long it took Merlin to reach the house, and if he ran into any trouble. When he appeared she would pull open the window and climb downwards, using the vines that had grown up beside her bedroom window, and were strong enough to support her weight.

Every time Morgana climbed down them she thought about how this happened in the fairy tales she used to read as a child, and it made her chuckle under her breath. How strange it was to enter the fairy tales, the fantasy world in such an escapist fashion. What would her father think of her if he saw his precious little girl now?

Merlin would wait for her to come down, and then they would go for a walk. When they first started having these meetings they said nothing, they would just walk for miles in the darkness, avoiding the street lamps in case they were spotted and embracing the peaceful, safe silence. They were too afraid to talk in case someone heard them, and too shy to think of anything to say. But over time they began to have whispered conversations, and then they dared to take each other's hands, black against white, as they walked through the darkness.

And then sometimes, when they parted Morgana eventually plucked up enough courage to kiss him on the cheek. One night she dared to miss his cheek, and their lips touched. But afterwards Morgana wished they hadn't, it was so heartbreaking when they broke apart, and having to remember that they lived in the real world, not their perfect fantasy one. They may never be able to kiss again. She would never feel the nervous butterflies in her stomach erupt into a flame of passion again, for just one fleeting moment.

They were taking great risks doing this, and Merlin was the one who was most in danger. It was horrible, living with fear, terrified that the next time the newspaper reported a black man being murdered because he was seen with a white woman, it might be Merlin. And it would be Morgana's fault. The same image went round and round in her head at night when Merlin was late: a great mob with burning torches gathered around a tree, a dead body swinging from one of the branches, his face turning slowly towards the flickering light. Merlin's face. Brutally killed because one night she had leaned up to his ear and whispered:

"I love you."

She voiced her worries sometimes warned him of the consequences of coming every night, but Merlin wouldn't let himself be pulled away from the woman he loved because someone else might not approve. He didn't care if he was killed, he would exercise this small piece of freedom he had at night and be with the person he cared most about in the world. He would take her hand in his and damn the consequences.

The hardest thing was pretending not to know each other when day came, and they drew out of heir fantasy world into the real one. If they passed in the street Morgana would have to turn her nose up at him as if he was dirt on the bottom of her shoe, like every other white person did. She remembered the first time they has spoken to each other, the first time their eyes met.

"I'm sorry, but I don't think you should be sitting there," she had told the mysterious black man, who was sitting on a bench in a quiet park nearby her home.

He looked up at her, and she was struck by the beauty of his eyes. He didn't move. "You said sorry."

Morgana shrugged uncomfortably, she looked down at the floor, but she could tell the black man was still staring at her. She didn't recognise his face, and she felt guilty that she had probably walked past him many a time, and not given him a second glance. "Well, I don't _want_ to tell you to move, but if you stay you might get into trouble."

"That is...considerate." The man sounded surprised, he sounded so old, full of wisdom, yet he couldn't be more than her age. Despite her random act of kindness he still felt the need to challenge her. "Why can't I sit where I want to though?"

The bitterness in his voice filled Morgana with a terrible sorrow and guilt, a lump rose in her throat. "I don't know," she admitted. She knew he couldn't sit there because he was black, and the bench was for white people, but she didn't know _why_ such differences were there in the first place, she never thought of them as far, but had learnt not to question it.

There was a short silence. The young black man sat and watched a couple of pigeons opposite him pecking at something on the ground. At first Morgana thought he was going to ignore her and continue sitting on the bench, but then slowly he got to his feet. He knew this woman was right, and the next person who came along and told him to leave the bench so may not be so kind. "Thank you," he said.

"For what?"

"For acting like you actually care," he said coldly, but then his voice became a little more friendly. "I'm Merlin by the way."

"Morgana," she responded, holding out a hand for him to shake.

He never got the chance, just then there was a shout behind them, and her father, Uther, appeared. "What do you think you're doing here?" He growled at Merlin. "This isn't a place for people like you, and keep away from my daughter!"

"Father I spoke to him," Morgana said quickly, hurriedly putting her hand back down, and feeling foolish that she had got this young man into trouble. "He meant no harm."

"They always mean harm," Uther grumbled, as Merlin turned away, but just before he left he dared to speak one more time.

"It was nice meeting you Morgana, perhaps sometime we can meet again," and he hurried off before Uther could realise what the young black man had said and react. But Morgana caught a small smile on Merlin's face, a beautiful smile, and she couldn't stop thinking about his eyes.

From then on the two strangers who should never have met, never should have even had a conversation, continued to bump into each other on the streets, spoke a few muffled words to each other as they past, and before Morgana knew it she found herself arranging to meet with him in the middle of the night, because they would not let the people on the streets hold them back. And from that day they have never looked back.

But they both knew that out of this fantasy world that occurred when the sun set, they could never be together. They were meant to be enemies. Morgana remembered reading a Shakespeare play in school - Romeo and Juliet. The other classmates joked about how the main characters were too desperate, they were being foolish, they shouldn't have let themselves be blinded by love. But Morgana looked over the text and understood exactly what the characters were feeling. They were in love but they were never meant to be, they couldn't help how they felt, but fate would never allow it. Such events tore your heart apart.

Yet somehow, despite everything, Merlin and Morgana didn't let the cruelty of reality stop them. And now they defied everyone they knew and met up together at night, every night, black hand entwined in white, as they stared up at the stars in a world empty of the people who would rip them apart if they knew.

It was always possible that things could change, people could see reason, they would start treating blacks like equals, but it would take time, so much time it would be too late for the two of them. Morgana would have been forced to move on, find a rich white man to marry, while Merlin was ground down into the dirt. They might even be dead by the time it was legal for them to share a kiss. The real world was deaf to reason for now, but by the time it begins to hear the cries to justice and make a difference, Merlin and Morgana would never be able to have the opportunity to hold hands and not feel afraid.

Morgana looked up into Merlin's eyes. In the real world, life was unfair and cruel, but in their own fantasy realm, it was just the two of them, and everything was perfect. For a few hours before the sun rose, they could be together, and begin to dare to think if it could last forever.

Until the real world came, they would take each other's hands, defy reality, and become the couple that was never meant to be.

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_Well, there you go. A little short maybe, but I hoped you enjoyed reading it, would love to know what you think so please review! :)_


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